Blackbeard's Pearl
by oxWithPaperWingsxo
Summary: Blackbeard came back to Nassau because there were things he needed to do, but he could some all of them up by saying simply that perhaps he should never have left his life of piracy to begin with. But as he said once, 'everything moves towards its end,' and as his clock keeps ticking counting down his last moments, memory of his dear Elizabeth, is all he has left to truly cling to.
1. Chapter 1

**Think of these chapters somewhat like diary entries, or a step into the past. in truth most of these chapters, that I might get round to posting when dabbled with, was what spilt out of me, after watching** **'** **!SPOILER!'** **that episode where Blackbeard met his end.**

 **To those who read this, I hope you enjoy, and I would love to hear some feedback if you get the chance. Thank you.**

* * *

 _As an island free from England's grasp, what the tides swept into Nassau was anyone's guess really, and it should take no one by surprise that these colourful characters end up where it is they are given relief from a watery mistress's arms and into those of flesh instead._

 _Elizabeth was taking a turnabout the room, having finished with one customer and on the prowl for another. Thinking the words even just to herself, she shuddered at the animalistic quality she must possess, here where she was among a number of lionesses in such a den as this, hoping for that indeed rare lion to actually satisfy them both, instead of some mangy dog._

 _The difference in the two types of men was easily distinguished. Standing where she was behind a long velvet curtain, Elizabeth could spot only five and they were usually those who enter with the intention to find 'His' suitable partner. A connection built over a drink or mutual observation, which allows both to understand each other's boundaries and if the desire is still there as a result, the whore has in her midst a regular customer and income, as well as the longed for passion._

 _If unlucky, then the dog just gives your flesh a lick, bends you over and is done, until they return with another pouch of coin to spend._

 _There is no thrill._

 _No art of seduction._

 _It is when a whore actually feels like a piece of meat and not a woman; which is why the lion is far more sought after, as they keep them feeling physically and mentally clean._

 _Her dress unlaced to expose the plumpness of her breasts, it was not the choice of wardrobe perhaps a respectable woman would wear, but for a whore it carried a certain modesty Elizabeth preferred over just waltzing around in nothing more than her undergarments, if any at all._

 _To her, the allure was the mystery itself of what lay beneath the silk fabrics she wore and she played the game beautifully, making sure every step she took was exaggerated. That way, such a strut showed off her assets naturally, like the curve of her hips, the length of her legs and size of her chest, allowing eyes to turn towards her._

 _In a room filled with girls, it was a walk that created space as the rest knew nothing more to do, other than to stroke their long hair or sit on an empty lap. They were enthralled by their fellow sister, as much as the men; a role model they were told to learn from example of._

 _And why should they not, when Elizabeth had been playing such games since she first bled._

 _Her bottom lip suckered into her mouth, she returned the gaze of many and cocked a thick brow to those who did not avert it, chuckling innocently so when she turned her back to pour herself a glass of rum, someone may be bold enough to come forward and present themselves to her._

 _This she claimed often was a key tool in enticing someone of worth._

 _Though a man would never admit it; approaching she who put herself above the rest was considered brave, less they risk being shut down, and admittedly it might not work for a lot of the girls here, for they would be nameless creatures, but Elizabeth had a keen reputation and a particular air of popularity. Attributes which allowed her to charge triple of what the average whore does, experiencing a certain life of luxury which to her would be the closest thing to freedom she would ever be likely to taste, and everyone knew exactly why that was._

 _Elizabeth was not like any other woman, because of one simple reason:_

 _She was_ _'_ HIS' _woman._

 _The earthy tones of dark golden sand entwined in her curls, the climate had warmed the beauties complexion and left her full lips redder than newly bloomed roses. She was well accustomed with her body and certainly knew how to use it, so in the sudden silence of the room, when she did turn back around there was, as she expected there to be, a strapping figure standing before her; only she wasn't prepared enough to stop her mischievous mood turning to shock._

 _"_ _You."_

 _Muttering the single word, Elizabeth's long, elegant fingers snapped the stem of the glass she held, in correspondence to her change in character, because beyond physicality, to stare into Elizabeth's two deep set eyes, their depths could not disguise what emotions she felt within her wilful spirit, and so everyone seemed to hold their breath alongside her, as storm clouds gathered in her irises._

 _Wind swept by the oceans salty breeze, for the most part the stories were true, and he was compared with most quite the imposing fellow, due to his broad stature more than his height, having rumoured to be well over six feet tall._ _Penetrating the perfume with a strong scent of_ _sweat mixed with rum and gun powder,_ _his dark clothes were torn by many fights most likely and stained by some questionable things, proving to having not long set foot ashore, after…_

 ** _"_** ** _Ten months_** ** _!"_**

 _No one needed to finish the trail of thought, for Elizabeth screamed the length of time the black haired man had been absent_ _for_ _. She screamed it and threw the broken glass she possessed directly at him, maddened by rage at what she believed was his audacity to consider it a wise move to come back at all._

 _However, he remembered her temper well and couldn't help but grin fondly beneath his thick beard._

 _"_ _Elizabeth," he greeted, taking everyone aback by his genteel tone._

 _The moment he spoke, he witnessed her whole demeanour shudder, betraying her of the need she carried, the same as his own._

 _Indeed, ten months ago he had slipped from her bed before she awoke to set sail and plunder, and for ten months he wanted nothing more than to reclaim such an embrace with her again; a cycle that he had dealt them time and time again._

 _Slowly creeping closer, the distance between them gradually faded, causing Elizabeth's breath to grow ragged, and she was frozen, as he leant down to brush his lips against hers._

 _"_ _How cruel you are… Edward Teach."_

 _As if no one was watching, he hooked his arm around her waist and met her head on with a passionate kiss, allowing him to taste the sweetness on her tongue, and she the roughness of his own._

 _When he parted he laid on her the sole excuse he had, as reason for his unjust actions, keeping her waiting for so long._

 _"_ _Pirate."_


	2. Chapter 2

**_Present_**

Edward had not anticipated returning to Nassau, until it was he exchanged vows with his eighth wife.

He could recall looking upon her wearing that odious guise of white and gold, and being in some regards repulsed not by her in general, but the deed he was once again repeating, since her face blurred and became one and the same with the seven women before her, so that if someone happened to ask him to describe any of the number of them, he would fail to do so, not from lack of memory but indeed care.

They were scarcely women after the third milk faced bride, and more so a possibility at the wanted son and heir, but in truth; it wasn't for an expansion of himself that he craved a being of his very flesh and blood, but a means of something to fill the vacancy in his soul and ease the betrayal that put it there.

Charles Vane.

When after his long and forced absence from an island he aided in its initial creation, Edward had spent so long in pain that eventually, the impossible happened and he accepted the transpiring of his progeny's actions and forgave them, for it seemed senseless to allow it to shadow the good times they had shared together.

To him, that had just given the Guthrie woman the damned satisfaction she probably lusted for, to see such a close relationship severed by her hand, and he refused to allow that to continue when he looked back upon the matter with eyes unclouded by the hurt.

However, be that as it may, now that the Guthries have been disposed of, that hadn't restored Nassau to its former glory as Edward had hoped. Instead, their absence has only left others to assume the high status they blessed onto themselves, to guard riches from an approaching English fleet, and of all people; among them happened to be Jack Rackam of all men, to stand beside Charles and the more understandable Captain Flint.

It was clear to Teach, the Nassau he often dreamt about, was gone, becoming little more than fragile bones, which were inevitable to defeat, when they were even without a navel strategist to stand at the head of their pirate fleet.

Admittedly, there was no devotion in guarding the island inside of him, like he had seen emanate from Charles. But for that same person's sake, he was willing to step in and aid them if he could in that missing role, on the condition that Vane becomes his protégé again.

Speaking in brief terms, conditions, weariness, suspicion and doubt.

It was hardly the encounter one might expect to share with such a dear and old friend, but even just the chance itself, to be in the same room was someone of his likeness, meant more to Edward than anything had come close to meeting during those eight long years.

A small part of that hole had eased, but Charles was not the only one who had caused Edward to lose a part of himself.

After parting with him, his feet needed no conscious effort to go where he was now.

Only…

The room was not hers anymore.

But she'd left an impression.

 **That** Edward could feel about the room, allowing him to see her ghostly visage sitting on the window ledge, where he would have so often found her when he woke in her bed.

Tracing his fingers where her form had once perched, looking out at the view of the streets, which had changed so much, he wondered if she would have been as displeased with it as he, at the sight of a horde of men, hearing of stories like Blackbeard's, but doing nothing to create their own.

A single linen sheet wrapped around her body…if he closed his eyes he could indeed still see her, and recall the touch of her soft skin, enchanting him as much as the open water did.

Two things which were both a siren to his heart; Teach could never decide which called to him the loudest, and had become torn between the pirate and the man as a result, for he always returned to either of the two in the end.

Even, it seemed, when one was lost to him now…

"Elizabeth," He muttered pitifully, having heard others belong to the name often, but never himself speaking it aloud, and he had missed the sound of it on his lips.

Downstairs he could hear the inhabitants of this establishment laughing, and if he didn't hurry, he might become a cause for surprise when a girl comes to the bedroom intending to provide some customer or another with her services, and that would in fact call for more explanation than he was willing to give, and would rather avoid the situation altogether.

Thus, beneath a large chest, as it would seem the piece of furniture was a fixed object to the room, he began to push it aside, since it remained to sit atop what he was seeking and serve as an obstacle, to what no one else, he supposed knew was under it.

A pluck of a loose floorboard after, he reached for the hidden box and marred its surface with a few swipes of his sleeve to clean the dust off, as a mark of how long it had been since it had seen the light of day.

The laughter grew louder, and tucking the treasure under his arm, Edward didn't bother to return the room to the state he had found it in, as there was nothing more needing the protection of the placements he had disordered and just as he was about to close the door tightly shut behind him, he paused just for a moment, spellbound by the dressing table...


	3. Chapter 3

_Elizabeth always woke before he did._

 _The Lines on his face, she ran a fingertip along them noticing how exhausted he appeared, aging his handsome face more than was fair. She allowed him this rest but for her, with a profession which mainly entailed lying on her back, if she wasn't distracted by her company or sleeping herself, then Elizabeth couldn't stand being confined to the mattress any longer than she had to be, and was quick to spring back up onto her feet and take in the morning beyond her window._

 _She didn't know why this was a habit of hers._

 _She had done it since a child, watching the people go about their business below on the streets, knowing that out there they would only revile her as a whore and she them a pirate and criminal, though it would be a hard effort to discover anyone who was anything different._

 _Nassau stripped a person bare for all their wickedness and sin, and became the proliferous bouquet of people, who truly did not give a shit and would try to top you in admittance to acts that would in lands across the seas secure their death._

 _In fact, Elizabeth had before heard it referred to as the outlaw's heaven before they were to all endure hell, and that since deeds done were worth no amount of repentance, or else they or fate would never have committed them, they might as well enjoy the days that were their own to do with what they will._

 _Chuckling, she had thought it an interesting take, but could not put her faith in it._

 _It seems God, religion and the Kings law always comes into the equation at some point, and it is by turning on what they say, or state, or demand that everyone is therefore made damned._

 _But who was it that first made their word golden?_

 _To Elizabeth, Nassau was as the whole world should be._

 _A cluster of people who owed it to each other to be only what and who they are, accountable to no one but themselves and those who they choose to let into their lives._

 _For her that meant Edward, and there was an honesty in that, since there was no pretense to exist within the lie that everyone should seek spiritual perfection, which they say is achievable, if only through suffering and prey._

 _Good or ill as nature dictates, we are who we are, and Elizabeth did not fear hellfire, viewing death as merely a darkness where no one possess a conscious mind to be aware of it, or even maneuver within it._

 _That has always been enough for her; and it is the rest of the world which is the oddity._

 _And so, perhaps she sits at this window to simply marvel at what little people experience; and that is proof of a belief set out before them._

 _Spotting her comb on the oak dressing table, Elizabeth tried to run her hand through her mane and got caught half way due to her lover having quite the fondness for it. No matter her constant complaints in the morning over the state it gets in after his rough, although pleasurable, handling, it would seem that the man had no appreciation for how difficult it was for a woman to try and tame curls like hers._

 _Elizabeth grunted, and was content at her fill of the outside to walk away from it singing as she went._

'I'd a pluck a fair rose for my love  
I'd a pluck a red rose blowin…'

 _The song she sang, it was stamped to her memory, though she knew not the source of it, as her grip of the bed sheet she held dropped to drape around the chair._

'Love's in my heart, i'm tryin' so to prove  
what your heart's knowin…'

 _Her nakedness was of no concern though, as there was no one in the room who she would shy away from, and toyed with the dreaded comb, preparing for battle._

'I'd a pluck a finger on a thorn  
I'd a pluck a finger bleedin…'

 _Cowardly, she started at the ends and worked her way up, feeling her tender scalp protest as the teeth of her brush tore more than its share and in such instances, Elizabeth truly had to bite her tongue to prevent her crude language from spoiling the song, though her singing may have harshened._

'Red is my heart, wounded and forlorn  
And your heart needin...'

 _Eventually, the persistence paid off and she finally gave her locks the finishing touches and pulled the top layer back off of her face to tie in a ribbon, and though the deed her distraction of singing was needed for was done, Elizabeth did not stop until the song was spent._

'I'd a hold a finger to my tongue  
I'd a hold a finger waitin'  
my heart is sore, until it joins in song  
with your heart matin…'

 _She happened to look_ _up at the mirror and was struck by those piercing blue eyes she knew too well, as their reflection penetrated her. As their sole focus, they stalled her for a minute or so, until she returned their look with a smile and continued the few lyrics she had left._

'My heart is sore, until it joins in song  
with your heart matin; I'd a pluck a finger on a thorn.'

 _…_ _Edward was not a man who could tell Elizabeth that he loved her._

 _It wasn't that Pride had anything to do with it, just that love was something that was impossible to understand, so to him it should have no name. But what he would say to her in the stead of it; was thank you._

 _Elizabeth had given to him in the past, and she also gives the promise of tomorrow, no matter how far away that tomorrow may become._

 _Together they were a gift; for both provided the ability for the other to see them through their eyes._

 _There was no Blackbeard._

 _There was no whore._

 _Edward Teach was just a man._

 _Elizabeth was but a woman._

 _And yet, the one thing that made them special; was each other._

 _"_ _How long have you been staring at me."_

 _"_ _Shhh," Edward hushed at her question, "stay as you are."_

 _Elizabeth did as he requested and carried on watching him do the same with her, until he pulled his back off the bed and retrieved his coat from the floor._

 _Curious, Elizabeth saw him fish around in his pocket, but didn't happen to catch what he had pulled out of it and as he was too tall, he knelt down beside her and still was level headed with her, as he cradled her cheek for a moment, before slipping something over her head._

 _"_ _Edward!"_

 _Gasping, the pearls shone brilliantly as they both turned to admire them in the mirror and since they would unlikely wed, and any jewelry she owned was on a loan from the Madam of the brothel, Teach wanted to give Elizabeth something she had very few of, and that was possessions._

 _They were an unnecessary trinket maybe, but he did not care and cut off all her protests._

 _Men gave women they held dear in their hearts jewelry, and that was what he had done, simply because he wanted to._

 _A connection to hold in their hand, of their bond to one another._

 _"_ _Thank you, Elizabeth."_

* * *

 **the song which Elizabeth sings I have no claims to and is called 'I'd pluck a fair rose' from the TV series Poldark.**


	4. Chapter 4

Edward knew a thing or two about an island at conflict.

Residing in a tent near the harbour, word of the warrant for Charles Vane had spread like wild fire, as well as the reward for turning him in, which of course was a sure way to sway a man with no other value to do anything at the right price.

He might have returned to his ship last night, but Edward was glad that he had not, because although he'd told Charles of the waste his time spent on Nassau was, he didn't want the pleasure of telling the lad he told him so when dead.

He always respected Charles for hearing another's word and deciding for himself to heed it or not.

Therefore, Edward could not scorn him for avoiding this circumstance he'd himself saw as inevitable, and would instead get him out of it.

Hauled up in the fortress, it was only a matter of time before the young pirate made his escape. Quick and sure, with a strong hold over his wits, he will make it far enough on his own, but surely there are those who knew that also, and would wait for him near the water, where fortunately Edward was.

True, Edward did not owe the boy anything, but there was once where he had let someone down before, and he was not willing to do so again.

* * *

 _A week for Elizabeth was a rich grander than gold and come the second, the songs she sang ventured beyond the confines of her bedroom and Edward's ear, down to the bottom floor, entertaining listeners with her chipper mood._

 _As long as Teach was around, no one dared to make a move on her, or the madam demand her otherwise, and it was strange that by belonging to another, it was her liberation rather than restraint. A chance for Elizabeth to spread her wings a little and breath, knowing that these days she was a woman of her own means, even if it meant Edward had to give coin for her company that would despite it be hers to give freely to him, just so that when he left again, there was no grudge to hold against her, that would remove Elizabeth of her position that offered shelter and food._

 _However, sometimes she wasn't afraid to admit, it has come to her in a form of a dream, where she would be standing on the deck of a ship, believing she could do so much more besides selling her body._

 _Elizabeth fancied herself capable of swinging a sword and using her mind to slip the noose and dodge a bullet. Somewhere in her veins, there must be a drop of pirate blood in her, considering where she was conceived and born._

 _Was she refusing her true nature by remaining bound to one spot?_

 _It was an interesting question, one that she has tried to ignore to avoid wallowing in pity, since the emotion did not suite her, and yet; if it weren't for her wonder over it, she might never forgive Edward for leaving her._

 _After all, a pirate without sailing was a bird without its wings._

 _Elizabeth had been stripped of her wings, but at least she could still sing. Edward without his…_

 _The idea of freedom would be torn away from the world also._

 _By his own power, the sae was his and where Edward Teach will roam; he'll roam._

 _And she would forever be proud of him to have the strength and spirit to do just that; even if his wilfulness caused her to take constant peaks out at the harbour to make certain his ship was still there._

 _…or risked danger._

 _It was no secret that the one they called Blackbeard sailed the faster ship among all captains in Nassau, and it just happened that on his return, a meeting was called to address allegations over a pillaged ship, which a fellow Captain Rogers claimed should have been his._

 _According to him, it was clear he was making chase after a French vessel, with his colours on show, when Edward appeared on the horizon. But with the faster ship and a favourable wind, Blackbeard unfairly stole what Rogers claimed should have been his own spoils, and since his reputation earned Teach the favourable outcome, arguments have erupted between them both, as well as their crew._

 _Feuds were not resolved by words; and if Edward were any other man, some form of punishment might have been dealt, and now Blackbeard and Rogers were rivals, and they strike in any way that they can, in order to bring the other down._

 _It was a fortunate thing that Elizabeth happened on the view outside her window when she did, because if she hadn't, then she would not have noticed the fierce armed group marching towards the brothel._

 _This Rogers; Elizabeth recognized him as Maggie's regular, the two of them lounging together on the sofa bed when Edward had first returned to her. If she had known the quarrel then, she might have questioned his daggering gaze and the way Maggie had whispered her sister's name in his ear, but having been a little preoccupied, the tense moment he brewed about him faded until this moment, and Elizabeth realized that Rogers knew about her and Edward's story if Maggie maintained her gossiping character as she was known for._

 _Edward took from Rogers; and so Rogers shall take from him, and a favoured whore in an unprotected brothel seemed the perfect target._

 _Elizabeth was a clever woman and it did not take her long to deduce this plan that would risk her the torment which Rogers evil glare promised. She was swift, acting on instinct to remove the precious gift she would not want broken, and storing it in her hideaway under the floorboards, a place that was known only to Edward._

 _A crash and a few startled screams lessened Elizabeth's time to escape, and while on the second floor, she had only one option now the front door was lost to her._

 _Opening her blessed window, it was luck that it led out onto a balcony and from her fingers, Elizabeth dangled from it at an impressive height, but she'd take the drop over what Rogers had in store any day._

 _Elizabeth let go, as soon as a second door slammed forcefully open to cover her cry at the impact of the ground below her, and while she ran without looking back, the two crews men Rogers order to wait outside Elizabeth's door were not needed, when the captain discovered the room empty._


	5. Chapter 5

As Edward predicted, Charles risked his life in order to save it, and at the right moment when he was required, it was his gunfire and sword combined with Charles's that secured them the opportunity to remove those foolish enough to fight against their duo, as they rowed to the safety of Edward's ship, where no one would dare turn against their legendary captain.

However, there still remained the problem of the Governor's blockade, preventing any ship leaving Nassau, especially when the man he desired the arrest of was aboard one of them. But just like old times, the two of them together again were capable of anything, and come nightfall, a fire ship was well on the way of smashing into the English fleet, breaking it so that Edward and Charles could make for the open water.

Only, Edward could not stop himself from regarding the black sky filled with fire and be reminded of when he last saw the stars be drowned out by smoke…

* * *

 _Angered that Elizabeth was not in her room_ , Rogers _was enticed all the more to hunt her down and not have his want and will be slighted again._

 _Barking out loud in the streets, it was only right that he and his men should be allowed a turn on Blackbeard's woman, since he had robbed them all of a horde._

 _People seemingly agreed, regarding it as close to justice as was to be expected in a place without law and order, allowing silent enemies to come forward; those of Edward's and those of Rogers, as they picked sides and fought with Nassau becoming a battleground, bathing the streets with blood._

 _Not even behind locked doors was anyone safe, and since Edward had the harbour, Rogers commanded from the brothel, and if Elizabeth was not there, her lover was scarcely the same man while in the throes of stewing over where she might be._

 _Chin rested in the palm of his hand and a bottle of ale in the other, he needed rest having spent two days without it, but he'd grown dependant on Elizabeth in order to get it, as her body pressed to his was an intimate comfort that allowed him the peaceful escape._

 _"_ _Captain."_

 _Edward barely responded to the intruder, though it did little to discourage the man from continuing._

 _"_ _The men have caught a boy that was making for your tent."_

 _Sighing, this was the part where the captain was expected to do something to display discipline, and make a show of it, to remind them exactly why they feared and respected 'Blackbeard.'_

 _If there was more liquor in his bottle, the chances of him discarding his responsibility of punishment onto the men that caught the sneak, would have been greater, but with the last drop burning his throat, a good fight if the captive had it in them, was always welcome after a hearty drink._

 _With no coat to weigh him down, Edward grabbed his sword and waved it around flexibly as he exited his sanctuary, discovering that there was a crowd surrounding the boy he supposed was to become the taker of what he chose to inflict upon him, only judging by the state of them; They have already endured quite a lot._

 _Wearing ill fitted clothing, they were no more than rags dusted by the grime of Nassau's streets, and their hands which clutched painfully at the side of their ribs were bruised enough to swallow their natural colouring._

 _Crimson spotted the fabric that covered their figure, and as they shook with their back turned to Teach, he eyed his men who waited like vultures for Edward to do what it was they cruelly desired and he found that he wished not to act on their desires._

 _"_ _You have them!" he bellowed, pointing the tip of his sword at the meek prey and as the eager of the crowd laid the first lashes, the sound that the victim produced stopped everyone in their tracks._

 _Hair wrapped tight to the tip of the pony tail, the clothing wasn't fitted to show off the shape of the body, so it was easy to disregard the gender for male, when Edward had no clear view of the face, or the men neither by a low angled hat, but the noise produced was certainly female._

 _Slowly, Edward came around the huddle where the mysterious being had received a blow to the already injured ribs, by two nameless men, and through the pain, they managed to pull themselves to their knees hunched down for a breather, awaiting the strength to rise, and as they did so and rose their head; Edward might as well have buried his sword into his own gut._

 _In an alleyway, shortly after her escape, Elizabeth had shed her dress and done the disguise of a lad that she'd found strewn on a washing line._

 _The uniform was scarcely the likes that a crowd would look to under the instruction to find a whore and she had moved about without much hassle and avoiding conflict where it was thickest._

 _Unrecognizable, her disguise worked too well and Elizabeth should have known that a stranger suddenly appearing before a vast number of men would have been noticed, especially when they made for their captains tent._

 _The tall brute before her and his mate were the first to disable her from speech and movement, squeezing her throat before she could provide an explanation, and since a boot had landed on her tender side where she'd already met impact from her fall, any form of speech just wasn't an option._

 _Now, Edward was riddled with guilt he could not actively display when it became clear to everyone gathered who she was, but indeed; he could act on the rage._

 _The main culprits for her treatment, Edward run them through with his sword quicker than a bolt of lightning and carefully lifted Elizabeth into his arms and carried her to where they could speak openly._

 _But not before he gave his men an order._

 _"_ _COME NIGHTFALL, WE SHALL REMIND ROGERS HOW SOON, HIS NAME SHALL TURN TO DUST. WE SHALL BURN HIS SHIP!"_

* * *

 **thank you for the reviews x**


	6. Chapter 6

Off the coast of North Carolina, Ocracoke Island was a favorite anchorage and Teach chose to port there as some imitation of a celebration to have undermined a governor, which in turn will allow his crew to gain the reputation that often followed the men under the charge of Blackbeard.

A woman hooked under his arm, she might as well have not come to him at all, for he had received no satisfaction from her visit and thought her not worth any coin, despite it being no fault of hers, when she wasn't Elizabeth.

The jewelry box, after dismissing the whore, Edward had brought it ashore with him and unclasped the lid. Inside was paper scribbled by his hand, which were the notes he'd leave behind for her to find in the morning that he left her for long periods of time.

She had been seventeen when they met and began their relationship, and there were a pile inside that cushioned what Teach was really after.

The letters, Elizabeth had kept them all in her hideaway, and the thought made his grasp tighten around what he held, from a shaken moan.

 ** _Love…_**

 ** _It wasn't enough of a word._**

He lifted the object to his lips and uncurled his fingers, showing off the pearl necklace she'd worn for those two weeks.

"Thank…you…"

* * *

 _"…_ _I had seen him before he'd arrived at the brothels doorstep; so most of what you see is the result of my escape; dropping from the balcony. Then as you know, chaos erupted and it wasn't safe for me to wander without some kind of shield. It's taken me these passed days, just to worm my way to the harbor; Edward, is burning Rogers ship really going to make things better?"_

 _As she had spoken, Edward had tended to Elizabeth's injuries diligently; cleaning her cuts and scrapes, tightly binding her ribs which he confirmed were broken, while the numerous_ _bruises staining her flesh black and blue, was something she must endure._

 _He'd been quiet all the way through the process, but when Elizabeth asked her question he returned to the present with her._

 _Dropping the washcloth, tarnished by her blood, Teach chuckled half-heartedly, and leaned in close to Elizabeth's face._ _His eyes were narrowed; rigid, cold, and hard. By their look, they had turned from pure blue skies, to gun metal, lethal towards who they are aimed at._

 _"_ _He's too far away to hear me shout 'Go_ _fuck yourself!"_

 _Drink infused his breath, and was a poor choice of concoction to mix with anger._

 _"_ _Seeing his ship aflame; I reckon that will translate the message loud and clear."_

 _Elizabeth's thoughtful expression soon dissipated with a curled lip, when her understanding that she and Edward might sail away on his ship, was replaced by the actuality of what was to occur, and that she wasn't enough to make him put aside this quarrel._

 _"_ _So this is all to do with pride? Revenge means more to you than the chance we have to leave!"_

 _Elizabeth's claim was nothing more than rain steaming at the scolding impact of a boiling surface, unable to wash him and renew his mind, allowing Edward to consider anyone else's opinion, which was not his own._ _It seemed that she had crossed some invisible line and offended his sensibilities, causing her heart to beat erratically in waiting for the fire Captain Blackbeard was infamous for, and had demonstrated at the main dealers of Elizabeth's injuries who now were dead._

 _Edward's gaze had just been the beginning, a sort of calm before the storm when with a fluid movement, the table with the water bowl atop was flipped over, and thudded the tents wall letting Edward bolt upright onto his feet and pace a groove into the sand._

 _With_ _tenseness, Elizabeth couldn't bear to cower in her chair and backed away in the opposite direction, since nothing about this was making sense, not his curling fists or the anger that radiated from his skin._

 _The couple had argued sure enough, as they were too stubborn for them not to have clashed as often as they have done in the past. However; this was rage Elizabeth could not justify to be the blame for and even if she looked past the beard and heavy brow, it didn't originate from the prideful boy's heart so many men carried either._

 _Instead, it was a man's wroth, which made his once still frame tremble._

 _"_ _Do You…Have Any Idea…What He Would Have Done To You?"_

 _The hiss caused Elizabeth's stomach to churn and with no obstacles between them, Edward lunged towards Elizabeth and scooped her up by the legs, until her body hit the makeshift bed piled in a corner._

 _The action knocked the air out of her lungs, thanks to her ribs, and she gasped as Edward forcefully pressed his mouth against hers, Holding Elizabeth's head on both sides, so her neck couldn't turn it. Then, finding a random cut, he pressed his thumb into the raw wound and sent streams of pain up her arm, and while she fretted over that, Teach tossed her onto her stomach and struggled to pull her trousers down._

 _Elizabeth knew what he was doing, as her legs fiercely thrashed as a natural response to the positon she was in._

 _He was proving a point, and wouldn't push things as far_ _as he could, but all the same, she couldn't help but scream._

"STOP! EDWARD; STOP IT!"

 _Heaving to try and catch their breath, Edward lingered still behind her as she crumpled to have endured how Edward might act if he were a lesser man, and what indeed a lesser man like Rogers would have done._

 _But she had known all this._

 _It was why she had runaway._

 _And in the bitter silence, the late sun had finally set, providing the dark canvas which was perfect for Edward's fire to paint on._

 _Rising from her side, there wasn't much he took with him, but his sword and pistol, and though he could have left her without another word, he didn't have it in him to leave her on such a note as this, and gazed over his shoulder, where he saw the tears falling off her cheeks._

 _"_ _Those two days you were missing, and I had no idea where you were… Rogers could have taken my life and I would never have, nor could, contemplate fear. Tear me limb from limb and I would still look up and smile. But he chose to hurt you instead Elizabeth, to move the intent towards you. Oh...Then I knew pain; then I felt terror. I won't allow that to go unanswered. He thinks you are my weakness by threatening your life, exposing you, a strong woman,_ _ **as**_ _a weakness… he has no idea what he has unleashed, what your safety inspires in me. He'll beg for the devils embrace after I am done with him."_


	7. Chapter 7

The young defy their elders.

It is only in their nature, and yet their elders are fools to hope otherwise.

Grazed by a gunshot, Edward's head throbbed but it could not compare with the mix of emotions surging within him.

Some deep part of Teach had expected this. He more or less declared so on the deck of the ship before leaving Nassau, when he and Charles spotted the Guthrie woman in the telescope.

The marks of Eleanor Guthrie; did Edward ignore his own intuition, to see if it could be done, the dismal of broken love?

Of course he had his own marks, clutching a necklace in his hand as the only thing that could keep him from sending his fleet after the Bastard Flint, who could have been dead at the end of Edward's sword if it weren't for Vane.

Now they were both gone, to battle in a pointless war for no more than the prideful declaration to say that Nassau was theirs to control.

Then a voice echoed:

 _"_ _So this is all to do with pride? Revenge means more to you than the chance we have to leave!"_

Long ago, Edward had done just as Charles had done, deciding confrontation was the best way to set things right, rather than scorning a foe by simply enjoying freedom despite their threats.

If he had only sailed away that night with Elizabeth; that would have been the actions of a wiser man, and no other misfortunate would have had the chance to befall upon them.

However, Charles had made his choice, and Edward could not change it.

Just as he could not change the choice he made to burn Rogers's ship, which ultimately led to what followed after…

* * *

 _Curled tight into a ball where Edward had left her, all Elizabeth could hear was shouting both distant and near, and though it was a familiar sound, she couldn't quite bear it and closed her hands over her ears; and thinking of nothing else to do,_ _she thought she might aid herself to sleep by singing_ _._

'Memories like voices that call on the wind  
soft is the wind, soft is the wind  
Whispered and tossed on the tide coming in  
soft is the wind, soft is the wind…'

 _However, as her senses faded there wasn't any part of her that could pick up on the whispering beyond Edward's tent, but it wouldn't have made any difference, because nor could she have foreseen a group who supposedly were on the side of Blackbeard allowing Captain Rogers access to the camp, after the less trustful let greed fill their hearts and sent word to him, that his foe would be missing if he still wanted the woman, and by providing him this information and conduct, he would in return give them a greater share of the spoils, than Teach promised._

'Voices like songs that are heard in the dawn  
soft is the wind, soft is the wind  
Singing the secrets of children unborn  
soft is the wind, soft is the wind…'

 _if their claims had been lies, Rogers relied on caution in the form of a small number of men to slip in and out when he had done the deed, fortunately, however, the bargain was honored and he snuck like a rat to his destination, sneakily ridding those obstacles that stood between him and it with a silent death, so as not to sound an alarm._

'Dreams like the memories once born on the wind  
soft is the wind, soft is the wind  
Lovers and children, and copper and tin  
soft is the wind, soft is the wind…'

 _And then there he found her, actually where she was said to have been with no one hidden in any corners, if this had been Teach's plan all along to draw his rival out and ambush him._

 _She and him were alone, and as Elizabeth carried on singing her song, still covering her ears, it disguised the clink of Rogers belt coming undone._

'Dreams like the castles that sleep in the sand  
soft is the wind, soft is the wind  
Slipped through the fingers or held in the hand  
soft is the wind, soft is the wind …'

 _slow and deliberate, the Captain resisted bursting into laughter at how simple this was and how poorly Edward Teach protected his riches, for the woman was a rare beauty indeed, triggering true arousal, even if she looked to have been dragged by a cart through Nassau's streets._

 _Licking his lips, he knelt down close to her and was hit by her sweet scent, and the satisfaction of claiming her body and for striking such a blow against the GREAT Blackbeard, released an animal within him._

 _'The pirate all other pirates fear…'_

 _It did not stop, but drove Rogers to pounce and ravish Elizabeth who could not scream._

 _She couldn't; even as she obviously wanted to, since he had made certain to cut off her screams with a gargle of blood pooling in her shrieking mouth._

 _Then when he was spent, Rogers left as swiftly as he came, wishing he could be there when Edward found his precious whore._

* * *

 ** _Again, no claims to the song, and it is taken from BBC Poldark._**


	8. Chapter 8

There was nothing left for Edward now.

Charles was dead.

Hung by the order of that accursed Governor who, as fate would have it, shared the name Rogers.

There was an irony, in that by wanting to make right his past actions through trying to draw his friend away from making the same decisions, history has seemed to repeat itself, in an inescapable cycle of loss.

Now, Edward had no choice but to seek his vengeance by making Charles's vision for Nassau a reality, because it was all he truly had left in the world, risking nothing else but his own life, which he had never feared losing.

He wished he could have been there for Charles when he died though; to be among the men who hastened his end mercifully if he couldn't stop him from hanging at least.

What happened to the corpse thereafter, it has only been his duty once before to dispose of one respectfully, and he doubted Charles was in as grave a state as that had been.

* * *

 _Running his hands over his face, Teach could taste the salt of the sea on his lips as a man fresh from a swim._

 _As the last to leave the Howler, it was he who had ignited the trail of gunpowder which led to the barrels Roger's had stored aboard his ship, to enrapture the creaking wood in the folds of a mighty explosion, while Edward leapt into the ocean where his men awaited._

 _Clean of ash and his sweat washed off his skin,_ _he watched as a second sun burned atop the water's surface, more powerful than a ship taken by lightening, as such fires were slow to engulf its victim. At a safe distance, he could feel the heat battling with the chill of the night and saw the smoke strangle the air when it was illuminated by the red of the flames._

 _Rowing for the harbor, his men pressed their faces into their arms, coughing up the foul impurities their lungs rejected, while their eyes stung from the irritation, but Edward remained strangely indifferent to these elements, despite making no attempt to shield himself from them._

 _Without even a hint of pleasure, the ship was just a ship on fire and did not provide the satisfaction of getting one over on his enemy, that you might expect._

 _Deep down, Edward knew that no victory was had here, and he knew not why he felt this way, only that his senses were screaming at him to turn away from the Howler, and look instead towards his tent, and the nearer he came to it; that indifference was beaten by the hammering behind his chest._

 _A man like Blackbeard; he could separate his mind from his heart to become a more rational being, so when that skill failed, and both could concentrate wildly on only one thing, it gave great cause for worry, and when the sensation came over him, what else could it be about besides Elizabeth's welfare._

 _Soon as the boat made grooves in the beach, the panic coursing through his veins was an efficient drive to propel him to his destination, when Edward's body felt not his own. Somehow, it was like he knew how this was to end, but he couldn't stop himself from wanting to face it, not because he hoped it to be a lie, but to validate it for truth._

 _Gasping for breath, when he came to a sudden stand still, Edward was in the midst of the strains of a hard run, with his mouth filling with a tang of iron the more his chest heaved, raising his shoulders up and down._

 _Nothing eased, making him realize it was not the maddened dash to get within his tent which caused this, but the emotional turmoil of what his mind and heart predicted his eyes would see once he reached it._

 _Limp; Elizabeth resembled a petal plucked and blemished by unworthy hands, already fading in color, since her life's blood had choked her before it could escape from the wound cut across her throat as she lay on her back._

 _Sickly-sweet like a butcher shop, the scent was hardly a stranger to Edward's nose and as he recognized it for what it was, the notion of it being Elizabeth's blood churned his stomach, until his whole form was trembling as he wretched, and as the odor could not dissipate, his earlier indulgence on a bottle of rum was replaced by the heaving of bile._

 _Cold, despite the bead of moisture rolling down the side of his face, Edward almost wished to be back before the burning ship, to embrace its heat again; but he could not move._

 _The world yond the tent was forgotten, while it was like a wall was erected between him and the body, to keep him at a distance where Elizabeth could only be spectated._

 _On the floor, a wave had hit Edward with a force hard like steel to wound him; then with an hour to him, becoming more like twelve in reality, the tide slowly_ _pulled back, leaving Teach with a necessary vacancy that allowed him to stand again and march, gathering like blackened wings behind him, a mass of supporters._

 _An endless charade of battle, the conflict was not between these men if there was any to be had now in any case._

 _Blackbeard was to collect a debt, where by the sword an innocent life was taken, so by the sword would the guilty fall; and though he himself was not a good man, his moral compass had always steered right by Elizabeth, and her death demanded justice, more than any stolen horde!_

 _It wasn't a question of winning._

 _Edward knew that he would._

 _He just wanted the deed to be done with, so that when he returned to his tent, he could finally approach Elizabeth's body, knowing he had at least avenged her of all the years she'd been robed, to ease a little of his guilt for leaving her alone._

 _Try as he might, Edward could scarcely remember the act of killing Roger's, though his wretched figure swinging from the brothels staircase, with his guts spilt on the ground below him, was enough to assure him it had been done._

 _It was just a shame it happened so fast, since through it all, Edward only wanted to return to his love, so when he did, he was able to close her dry eyes shut, as if she only slept, and with her wrapped from head to toe, Blackbeard's crew set out, where the ocean was at its deepest and calmest, so when he was ready; he could release her into the arms of the ocean._

 _Though his heart, never let Elizabeth go..._


	9. Chapter 9

The chase after the Governor was not meant to end with a white flag.

The intimate clang of swords between foes was meant to be what filled the air, until the last man was left standing.

That was supposed to be the result of the silence; not the shock of surrender, which was a feeling Edward had never felt during his long years of piracy, even when a battle seemed to have lost all hope of victory.

Blackbeard made it this far without raising the flag, and now; it was how his vengeance would end; a fabric of pure white flapping against the wind.

Somehow, the betrayal wasn't a hurt struck by Jack Rackham's cowardice; he should have expected the man to act on the behalf of the woman, Anne's, safety. Instead, he laid blame on the world, which has forever needed justice to coincide with injustice, on a wheel that keeps spinning, and it just so happened that on this instance, chance dealt unfavorably.

His weapon still clutched in his hand, why did this Woodes Rogers cling to it so fiercely, as if he was trying to convince himself he could have bested Edward when it came down to steel alone. Then the purpose of it became clear, when using the hardened hilt, the Governor stripped Edward of his consciousness.

* * *

With the oncoming blow a sight he could not shake, or convince himself otherwise of it actually happening, Edward's senses didn't seem to falter for an instant though he knew he had fallen with the hit.

He knew, and yet here he was standing on strong legs with a gentle breeze caressing his skin and brushing through the dark hair that hung around his face, with the salty smell of the ocean surrounding him.

Without the sound of a birds caw, the waves were without a voice, until suddenly there was a sweet song, using it as its melody and muse.

'For whatever drifts from one place,  
Is with the tide to another brought,  
And there's naught lost beyond recall,  
Which cannot be found,  
If sought,'

Opening his eyes, Edward was not alone.

There at the fore castle before him, as he mounted the few steps which brought him closer to the figure, they had these spiraling long curls, which were tousled by the same wind he experienced.

Gold was their color; rich like the sand, and as he reached the top step, the figure made a familiar gesture, turning so that their prominent jawline rested diligently on a shoulder.

Both man and woman were alerted by the others presence, hesitant to make the next move due to the years which have passed since last they saw each other.

But she was the first to take the risk that this reunion was all some cruel trick, if only to say his name and have him hear it.

With the sun making her warm skin glow, those crimson lips parted into a smile, "hello Edward."

This was a man far too rational to let himself have his sleep be taken over by dreams, however, those instances where he had let himself be fooled by them, it was always his desperate touches which spoilt the vision of the woman before him.

"What is this?"

It was impossible that they could be a mere arm's length apart, after decades of being separated by the forces of life and death.

A blow to the head wouldn't kill Edward; he was tougher than that, so a dream was all this could be and he didn't want his peasant hands to spoil such a welcoming sight as his Elizabeth.

Still unable to betray his emotions through expression, it was well that Elizabeth was still very much attuned to her ability to read passed the mask Edward wore to disguise when he lost control of them, and she didn't have to search far to find the concern that she might disappear, because she shared a worry similar to his.

"It's a chance to speak," Elizabeth explained rashly.

Bowing her head slightly, she signaled to the place she intended to step and held out her hand, to make the man stay where he was, and to trust her approach. Then she whispered softly, "the clock is ticking my love; it's nearly time."

Now that he was the Governor's prisoner, it was safe to say Edward suspected that his demise was drawing near and just assumed the Englishman would make a spectacle of it, just as he did Charles. Although after threatening Eleanor Guthrie, his newly made bride, he didn't need to be whole to make a perfect wedding gift, for such a woman.

Surely his head would do, and as Edward came to accept the circumstances he was under, Elizabeth saw no reason why she could not better explain her part in these final moments.

"You've always been moving towards it, as we all have done, and must do. This is a veil that has been momentarily lifted, between your world and whatever it is that comes next; and it is here that I have been waiting for you."

Somewhere in the middle between the living and the dead, this being in limbo had already exceeded Elizabeth's expectations regarding the question of afterlife, but nothing could impress her unless the person who made everything matter, was standing by her side to share in it.

Her stubbornness wasn't just an earthly attribute to her character and rather than allow their fear to rule them during such a reunion as this was, Elizabeth had to stretch up onto her toes, to grab the back of her lover's neck and drag him down low to rest his head against hers.

"…You were cold last I touched you."

Nothing more than a corpse, Elizabeth had been glad that Edward had given her mortal shell to the sea as it had always called to her, but not if the state of her body had scarred him like this, and she pressed her warm lips against his.

"I have touched you a thousand times over! Even through that mist you surrendered yourself to, in order to survive when all your own will to live, vanished… I thought you had forgotten me."

Edward grimaced at the thought that Elizabeth had witnessed him disconnect with the world like he had done within the first two years after her death.

Her pride must have been shaken in him, after he sought to punish the world for his pain because her loss came without a goodbye as a cost of Edward failing to protect her.

In truth, many a drunken night had caused her face to fade and a hunger to find in another woman something that might even resemble a flicker of the bond they'd shared, hence the nine wives, but all failed to ignite that passion.

His Elizabeth was a rare breed and none could ever replace her.

"Forget you? Never."

His hand uncurled itself from around her necklace, a trinket he knew he held soon as he woke here, and she smiled brightly, closing his fist tightly around it again and sealing it with a kiss, happy that it meant as much to him, as it had once done to her, and she saw now how fortunate it was she managed to hide it for Edward to find again, to help with this pivotal moment.

"The clock is ticking," she repeated, with a tearful gaze "and _there's still one last thing you have left to do. Like your friend…like your son, Charles. "_

* * *

Snapped back to the present consequences of losing to a determined foe, Edward had been stripped of most of his possessions, besides the linen on his back and legs.

Bound by rope, his hands were like stone keeping the rich they carried safe at their core, without Edward able to recollect when he might have reached into his pocket before Rackham's surrender to retrieve it, but if remembered correctly, they appeared when he was with Elizabeth and it was she who enclosed his hold over them, before he woke.

Glad that no one could or had dared to pry his hands open, when the Governor leaned down, Edward could not help but smile, aware of the fact that though he could not see her; Elizabeth was with him nonetheless, and it was funny how the bastard believed that this would be his shining moment, to come out looking like the stronger man.

"Do it."

Those would have been Teach's words if Woodes hadn't beaten him to it and as a bag slipped over his head, tightened at the neck, Edward was pulled out from under himself, and dragged across the deck to remain suspended in the air, with the pressure amounting in his head while he waited.

 _'_ _I'd a hold a finger to my tongue  
I'd a hold a finger waitin'  
my heart is sore, until it joins in song  
with your heart matin…'_

Plunged head first into the water, it was the not knowing when he'd break its surface that forced Teach to take a deep breath too early perhaps, but the rope straightened, passed underneath the ship so that the men aboard, could slowly pull him across the barnacles.

Keelhauling.

Edward could credit the Governor for his method of killing, fulfilling the wonder of how the infamous Blackbeard would die, as he was not a man who was destined to leave this world, old or sickly in the warmth of his bed.

 _'_ _Love's in my heart, i'm tryin' so to prove  
what your heart's knowin, I'd a pluck a finger on a thorn  
I'd a pluck a finger bleedin…'_

A sack of meat, held together by bone, the tightness of his skin was shredded apart to expose is inner materials, and like a doll pulled at the seams, he could feel how things began to loosen with every drag with parts of him lost among the crimson blood, clouding the water.

It was a tough fight, to keep from screeching, but be it skeletal fingers stripped of muscle; he would not let the necklace go.

 _'_ _Red is my heart, wounded and forlorn  
and your heart needin...I'd a hold a finger to my tongue  
I'd a hold a finger waitin…'_

Bursting from the sea, the exposure of air and sunlight made Teach all too aware of the salt coating his raw flesh, intensifying the agony he endured, as he was pierced by individual needles burrowing down into his body, setting him alight with their fiery fury.

 _'_ _My heart is sore, until it joins in song  
with your heart matin…'_

When he smacked down onto his knees again, every nerve of his body shuddered, stunning him with the strange and discomforting sensation. The chance to release his held breath was beginning to be wasted. He was frozen, not knowing what to do, until that is; an elegant hand perched itself on his arm.

Edward could feel her touch; the one she claimed to bestow on him whenever he had needed it, though he failed to feel, and now her long fingers were solid and did not ignite any pain.

 _"_ _Breathe Edward."_

Doing as she bade, he choked on the air he released, coughing and sputtering through the bag, which was a barrier between him and the relief his lungs hungered for.

 _"_ _That's it_ ," she ushered with a coo, " _now, with me; raise your head."_

Underneath his chin, there was indeed the impression of someone gently lifting it and he threw back his neck, to save Elizabeth from doing the work for him.

Ruining Woodes's grand parade, the survival was an annoyance at best, but wasn't so unexpected taking into account Blackbeard's massive form, and he barked the second command.

"Again!"

Whipped from her embrace, Elizabeth walked at the same pace she could hear her lover slowly being towed, observing the grim expressions of his fellow pirates, who were prepared for this to be it.

But she felt what they couldn't see, and that was his iron hold over her necklace as if it was her very heart, and through that trinket, a symbol of their bond, her will combined with his, providing him with the might to withstand this ordeal, as no other man could.

His body destroyed; he physically could not make his lips move and it seized him in a throe of panic, repeating Elizabeth's name again and again.

 _"_ _Look up Edward!"_

Without the haunting tone of a vacant echo cloaking her voice, as desperate recollection on his part had done, her instruction was as clear as crystal; and it was a good thing too, for if he had not heard her, Teach's stillness might have been passed for death, putting another in his place.

Juddering, his head rolled with little support, coughing again for a savored breath of air.

 _"_ _I'm here with you, just look up my love; look up!"_

Since his front took the brunt of the barnacle's sharp exterior, Edward hadn't tried to avoid them by thrashing his head from side to side like he had done the first time around. This had allowed for the bag to catch and tear, so when he leveled his gaze from the floor, his widened eye had a hole to peer through.

So beautiful; while her figure became purer, the rest of them became lost in a haze and the clarity in her smile spoke volumes.

 **'** **Nearly there,'** he thought, **'** **nearly there.'**

"AGAIN!"

Teach's refusal to die hijacked the story which was supposed to be the making of Woodes Rogers. A highlight in his career, creating a reputation that would make him a force to be reckoned with and a terrible danger that all pirates think twice before crossing.

This wasn't the way Rogers wanted it to go; Bested, even when someone was at so crippling a state, by a will that just wouldn't go away.

An impossibility made possible, was how Elizabeth described it, proving that Edward was more than flesh as this Rogers displayed through stripping him of it.

No; underneath all that was an idea, stirred by the same notion, inspired by a singular factor, and displayed despite attempts of having it stolen.

He was a man; a free man, who could take charge of his own death, by defying those who condemned him to it.

For Charles Vane, it had been his refusal to accept defeat even at his own hanging, by rousing spectators with an inspiring speech, turning a punishment into a sacrifice.

…The world began to fracture, while Elizabeth became a prominent fixture in Edward's sight, urging him to keep looking up after the third keelhaul.

Cheeks torn, ribs on display, lumps of flesh and skin littering the deck…

Edward Teach followed Charles's lead and kept his freedom, by continuing to look his enemy in the face and breathe.

Choking on a mixture of blood and water, this was it.

Edward knew it and so did Elizabeth when she leaned down close and offered him her hand, and behind her, another figure waited expectantly with their arms folded across their chest, nodding in approval.

Elizabeth and Charles.

They were both with him come that final explosion, that made the name Blackbeard last throughout history, proving to all that a stand could be made, even at deaths door.

 **The End.**

* * *

thank you for the support and reviews, xxx


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